


Hold me close, don't let go..

by TheGhostOfYou



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Epic Bromance, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Self-Harm, everyone is human, possible suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGhostOfYou/pseuds/TheGhostOfYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The light at the end of his tunnel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Myler. Slightly AU.

"Dad  _please.._ " Tyler can feel the crimson elixir dripping down his nose, the throb in his shoulder radiating to his chest. "I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry." His masculine frame is curling into itself, bracing for the next blow.

" _Sorry?_ You're sorry, Tyler?" Richard Lockwood's powerful fist makes a crackling contact with Tyler's jaw, making the younger screw his eyes shut, howling in pain. "Then why does this happen every fucking time, son?" The aged man's build is coiled like a spring, building up the energy for his next offense. 

Tyler's not sure which part of himself to shield from his father's wrath. Every inch of him is sore, with purple bruises blossoming onto tanned complexion. Rage stirs within his body, in the sinful form of hatred. He hates his dad. He wants it to stop. He needs it to stop. 

But Richard was far from done. Curling rough digits into the waxy collar of Tyler's leather number, he hauls the boy off the ground, instead slamming him into the study wall. A crack echos throughout the room as the sculpted arc of the young Lockwood's back lands against the quivering plaster and he whimpers. The sound eliciting a scornful laugh from the elders throat. "You're a disappointment, Tyler. That is all you'll ever fucking be." He slams the boys toned physique into the wall once more, and then again. "Do you hear me!? A disappointment.." 

Tyler latches onto the strings of consciousness, a sharp pain causing his head to spin and vision to blur. He sure that his eyes bare saltish tears, that he looks like nothing more than a dear caught in the headlights.. God, it hurt so bad.

Slowly, but surely, Richard regains his composure. As large hands dust the expanse of his tailored suit. His aged features remain hardened, sienna depths void of any sort of emotion. "Go. Clean up.. And get your fucking act together." The senior detaches himself from his son, who in turn slides down the wall, in defeat. " _Now,_ Tyler.."

The boy can do nothing more than nod numbly at the retreating form of his father, inhaling enough air into his aching chest to utter "Yes, sir.." Gathering all the strength that had managed to remain in his beaten body, Tyler raises on to a set of unsteady feet, trudging his way out the front door without a glance behind. 

-×-

It's not the first time he'll show up at Matt's house unannounced in this state. And it's surely not the last.

-×-

Tyler balls a strong hand into a fist, sore knuckles rasping against the wooden door of his best friend's house. He leans against the door, legs unable to hold the swaying state of his toned figure upright. Fatigue washes over his being in waves. He was exhausted, in every aspect. But more importantly.. Broken in every possibly way. His dad didn't stop at crushing bones. No, he worked to rip his son's spirits to shreds. To make Tyler feel unworthy of the air he was allowed to breathe. Maybe Tyler wasn't good enough for life. It wasn't the first time he'd given thought to an idea like this. He wonders if there's a car coming up the street.

All thoughts that troubled the young Lockwood's mind disburse as a mop of blonde hair opens the door. For the first time today, a shred of happiness makes Tyler's russet optics gleam, launching himself into the set of strong arms before him. 

A stone cold expression paints the canvas of Matt's pale visage as he soothes a callus palm down the shorter's back, murmuring words of praise down into his ear. He could kill Richard himself. Kill the bastard for laying a hand on the whimpering boy in his arms. Matt's body is set ablaze with fury, but as Tyler bloodied features burrow away into the crook of his neck, he returns his focus to the task at hand. "Hey, Ty.. Come on, let's get you inside.. All cleaned up." A gentle fondness replaces the previous anger that was written across his countenance. 

Tyler merely nods, burying deeper into Matt's buff frame, clinging to those broad shoulders for dear life as he's carefully maneuverd to Matt's bedroom. Once there, the taller of the two is seating the other down onto plush bedding, his knuckles stroking tenderly down the russet cheek. "I'll be right back." Matt whispers as Tyler eagerly leans into the comforting touch. 

He brings back a box, kept specially for Tyler under the faucet. Matt's nimble appendages pour a clear liquid onto cotton swabs which he dabs gently at the blood crusted along the Lockwood's busted lip. The structured nose is next to be cleaned of the crimson which pooled underneath. Matt carefully lifts the thin cotton away from his friends body, revealing what were splotches of inky color all across the taut muscle of Tyler's physique. Matt winces at the sight.

He knows just what Tyler needs.. Those kind words, and gentle touches. Anything to reassure Tyler that he deserved to live as much as anyone else on this godforsaken planet. But Matt thinks he deserves it even more. 

He traces the rough pads of his fingertips carefully, across the bruises of Tyler's muscled torso, oceanic depths filled with blatant affection. "You're so amazing, Ty.." His free palm lays against the smooth plane of the dark haired boy's cheek, just under the dark shadow that's formated around his eye. "So much better than this.. And him." There wasn't anything false in the pure adoration that laced Matt's tone. "So beautiful.." The blonde murmurs as his crystals bore into Tyler's glistening set of mocha tints. Tyler's heart swells with everyone one of his friends words.

Now, both of Matt's large hands cradled his russet visage in a tender hold, the pale plane of his forehead resting against Tyler's chest, as the shorter trembled with every sob that rips free from his throat.

"I hate him! I hate him, Matt.. I hate him so fucking much.." Tyler breathes heavily, as his dull contours spat out the harsh words. He finds comfort as the tip of his nose searches for security in the blonde strands below. The familiar scent brings his mind at ease.

-×-

A pizza delivery later, the two boys lay across Matt's plush bedding, Tyler's bulky build half atop of his friends. Matt has strong arms secured around the other, his pallid brims pressed against the crown of Tyler's head. God, how he loves Tyler..

In the morning all will return to normal. Tyler's braved will come back at full blast, and his walls will once more build around him. But even then, Matt knows how much Tyler craves care from another. Knows how Tyler will wear a genuine smile, if Matt's gentle touch graces him in a moment of privacy. God, how he loves Matt..

And that's why, all it takes a fitful Tyler to find sleep, is the gentle graze of Matt's plush brims to his, and the quiet murmur that his friend loves him. Matt loves Tyler.

 


	2. Love is not a fading dream.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler will always be.. Well, Tyler.

Brilliant rays of sunlight breach through the slight partition in the curtains. The heat from the golden hue warms Tyler's russet visage, causing the young man to stir in the strong set of arms he found himself incased within. Thin lids begin a slow rise, until his sienna irises meet the image of not his bedroom, but Matt's. Huh. Tyler can't seem to shake off the soreness that's still present throughout his body. And aside from the crippling exhaustion, he feels uneasy. Deep down, in his gut.. It makes him feel sick, he was going to be sick..

With rushed movements, the young Lockwood is throwing his friends arms aside, as unsure feet assist him to the bathroom. His masculine frame is lurched in front of the toilet, cranium bowed so he's able to vomit. A groan finds its way free from his throat somewhere between a gasp for breath and a mouthful of bile. Rough hands press against his own toned stomach, trying to soothe the sickness to a stop.

Gentle fingers card through his mop of inky strands, a familiar scent lingering in the air.. It comforts Tyler. Matt's kneeling behind him, concern clearly portrayed through cyan pools. Matt has one hand caressing the shorter's hair, the other rubbing soothing patterns down the sculpted arc of his friends back. "You okay, Ty?" His tone carries softly, as comforting as his touch.

Tyler doesn't want to.. He knows he shouldn't. But he can't help but lean back into his best friend, can't help but find solace in those affectionate gestures. He needs it so bad. Swallowing thickly, he lets there lid fall back over the toilet, hitting the stainless handling of the flush not long after. "Yeah.. Yeah, I'm fine." _Liar_. "Just a bit queasy..." A wave of content nature washes over him as Matt's muscled arms are helping him to stand up right. From how he carries Tyler to the marble finishings, where mouthwash is handed over.

Matt knows better.. He and Tyler were just friends. That kiss.. It was a one off, an outcome of events that were out of his controls. But he just can't help but press beige contours to the nape of his friends neck. "I'll be right outside. Call if you need anything." He makes plan to move when he realizes that tanned arms arm locking his own in place. Matt couldn't have been more relived. So he stands his ground, arms circled around Tyler's sculpted torso. He buries pale features into the curvature of tanned complexion. This is where Matt wanted to be.. Rights beside Tyler. Dull teirs lifted in a smile, that pressed against his friends skin.

Tyler, wears a countenance of somber nature, mocha's hardened as they stare at his battered reflection. God, wasn't he a sight to see.. But the touch of Matt's brims have him shivering in delight. How he wished they'd return.. So he holds his friend in place, refusing to allow him to leave. He doesn't want Matt to go. He bakes in this moment of his own selfishness.

-×-

The boys eat breakfast in silence, Tyler is absently rolling a fatty strip of bacon over and over again with the use of his fork. Hm. He watches the clock above the fridge, the chiseled line of his jaw tensing as last nights events play through his mind, right down to that touch of lips. How he'll always savor that moment.. The thrilling sensation of completion it brought. He deserved what his father did. He deserved to be treated as lowly as he felt. He didn't deserve Matt, though.. People like Elena Gilbert did. With pretty eyes, and a personality that had others in awe. She was a fool for not picking Matt.. Matt with the brilliant oceanic eyes, with the strong arms and the warm smile that makes Tyler melt.. Fuck. How he wishes he deserved all that was Matt Donovan.

Tears of rage burn in his eyes, blunted ivories mashing together in a bone chilling sound.. Why the fuck do I have to be so pathetic? He thinks.. He wants to be worthy of his friends love. The one that he practically lived for.. For if it wasn't for Matt, Tyler's almost sure he wouldn't live to see another sunrise Matt deserves more than this. More than him. He needs to go. Now.

Matt's expression grows weary at his friends abrupt changes in demeanor. "Ty..." His voice is cautious of the aggression he knows Tyler will exhibit. "Whats wrong, bud?"

Tyler's head snaps up, icy optics void of any emotion that could convey weakness. He pushes back against the wooden chair so he rises onto a set of boot clad feet. "I'm going." He all but growls. "Got places to be." His rough hands dive into denim depths, buff figure turning around gruffly as he gathers up the strength to walk out the front door.. To leave Matt and his comforting presence behind. Fuck. He doesn't fucking want to. But he sure as hell won't subject Matt to this.. Matt needs better. Someone better than you, he can hear his fathers mocking tone.

Matt's brows rest mid forehead, as he tries to analyze the sudden hostility in the Lockwood's behavior.. He wants his friend to stay. So he can draw the boy back into his arms, run his digits through that raven hair.. "Ty wait.. About last night.." He's scrambling, looking for an excuse to keep the other in his house. "We.. You and I.. We, uh, kissed.." The blonde's normally pale cheeks now stand out, flushed with red.

Tyler freezes, the ability to move dispersing from his being. Fuck.. That kiss.. That fucking kiss that filled Tyler with hope, that made his heart swell. He wants to turn around, grab Matt and kiss him till neither can breathe. But Matt deserves better. Better than Tyler.. But, fucking hell.. Tyler wants that kiss again, so much so, that the need for it is making him physically ill.. But Matt comes first, at lease for Tyler. "Don't.. I'm not a fag, Donovan. So _don't_." His voice is monotone, and then next thing to be heard is the slam of the door being close shut.

Matt sits there; dumbfounded, a wrecked expression playing across the canvas of his chiseled visage. He should have stopped Tyler, but that boy, when in a temper was not a force to be reckoned with. Matt's broad build slumps back into his wooden seat.. He would allow his friend time to cool off.. But the boy was an idiot if he thought any amount of tantrums would have Matt keeping his distances. Why was it so hard for Tyler to see how much he loved him?

Tyler, couldn't have been any quicker to rush away from this street.. Slightly more confident steps guide him back to the direction of his own home, but the thoughts that dominated his mind consisted of a certain blonde male. Rough hands clench into tight fists as regret begins to surface. But he was Tyler Lockwood. He made all the wrong choices. He made all the wrong decisions. "Fucking hell.." He grumbles, as russet optics elevate heavenward. I'll be better, he thinks. Be everything that Matt deserves. But even with this surge of hope, a tiny voices wills Tyler to believe he really would never amount to more than the pathetic inconsequential entity he had thought himself out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So this is the first fic I got the guts to publish. Soooooo.. Please do let me know if you like it! 
> 
> Ps.. This chapter is so bad! :O


	3. Beautiful Scars on Critical Veins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summaries are just spoilers..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Self harm. Title is from the ATL song 'Kids In The Dark'

"Thanks again, Mrs Lockwood. But are you sure he's even home?" The blonde chirped as she side stepped the older woman, making her way into the living room, eyeing the grand staircase. She'd planned to really give it to Tyler when she found him. Three fucking missed calls, and twelve texts. The nerve of that Man.

 

Mrs. Lockwood tucks a loose curl behind her ear, blessing the other with a warm smile. Hell, who knew she was capable of it? "Of course, I think he might be sleeping.. It was a.." She looked frail in that moment, voice cracking. "A rough night. Caroline, dear.. Please talk to him.." Her hazel eyes filled with tears, and she turns her head. 

 

Caroline can't help but frown at this. Tyler always seemed to shut off after "those rough nights." He'd drank half a pint of whiskey the last time, nearly crashed his car. God only knows what he'd gotten himself into this time? She smiles at her friends mother, reassures her, and then hurries up the stairs. Her stomach feels queezy, just like it always did when she had a bad feeling about something.

 

On the other side of his bedroom door, Tyler stands in the bathroom, shard of glass betwixt nimble fingers. He's beyond the point of rational thinking. He feels... Nothing. No anger, no hurt, no happiness. His soul feels empty, he doesn't want it anymore. He doesn't want anything anymore. What fucking point was there? So he glides the edge across his wrist, hard. Blood gushes from the wound as the skin is torn. The rustic smell makes his head spin. But he doesn't stop there, he was an artist, and these became his tools. He brings it down on his skin, again, and again, and again.. The floor usually sparkling and white is not tainted crimson. He's dizzy, maybe it was the realization of what he's just done, or maybe it was the blood loss. Either way he stumbles back, supporting himself with the wall. He feels so light. Fuck, it feels so good. And no, fuck him, because he's smiling.

 

Caroline doesn't bother knocking. She just barges in, her golden tresses flying as the door closes behind her. And the noise snaps Tyler out of what ever little fantasy he was living in. He hadn't locked the fucking door? Well, it had been an on spot decision. But, fuck, fuck him, because if that was his mother. Fuck.

 

He scrambles to clean up, do something, hide even. But he's so heavy on his own feet. He prepares for the worst. And.. And then he sees Caroline. She's staring at him wide eyed, frozen on the spot. She feels so fucking sick. What had she just scene? He doesn't know what to do.. He just stares back. 

 

She's feeling so sick, she can't breathe. Oh My God. What the hell was he thinking? And the blood, Oh My God, there was so much of it."Why?" She whispers, stepping closer to him. The boy's eyes are glassy, but whether from the tears, or from the feeling that he was going to pass out any second. He opens his mouth to say something, but words don't seem to feel the need to formate. Instead he merely topples forward, his face buried into his shoulder. "Don'tTellHerPleaseDon'tTellHer.." The words are strung together, mumbled, and he lets out a sob at the end. 

 

She's sure he's got blood all over her, his blood, the blood that he's made appear. Fuck, what was she supposed to do? She brings thin limbs around his broad shoulders, holding him close to her, taking every shiver that wracks through him. She murmurs words that he probably wasn't even listening to. And together the pair makes it to his bed. His eyes screw shut every time something comes in contact with the mangled flesh of his arm, fuck, there was pain, so much pain. 

 

"Stay with me, Ty, okay? You're gonna be okay.. Everything will be okay." She's reassuring herself more than him, as she darts a look out of the window. The car is gone, no one was home. Fuck, fuck what was going to happen to him? A groan comes from the bed, and she turns, he's pale, so pale.. Fuck. Searching wildly for her phone, she clicks on a contact. 

 

"Hello?" Comes a gruff voice.

 

"Meet me at Tyler's, now. Fast as you can. Please, please hurry.." She sobs into the line, one hand carding through said male's hair. She doesn't even get a reply, the line's gone dead. He must be on his way. Fuck, he's still bleeding, and now even his eyes refuse to open. "Tyler, don't you fucking dare.. No, keep your--" A hand clutching her own shuts her straight up.

 

She absently trails the pad of her thumb across the back of his hand. His breathing goes from ragged, to non existent, and she panics. She's about to hunt for her phone once again when a familiar mop of blonde hair appears at the door.

 

"I got here as fast as I could." Matt pants, closing the distance between him and two others, and fucking hell, his entire world shatters. He can't hear Caroline's explanation, he doesn't want to, because no, nothing makes this okay. "Get the first aid kit, what the fuck are you waiting for!?" He all but shouts, rushing to push down Tyler, who at this point made the effort to try and sit up. "And you.. What the fuck were you thinking?" Matt's eyes are filled with tears as he cradles a russet visage. The boy in question whimpers, trying to tug the blonde closer. He just wants to bury into those strong arms, be held, and oh, fuck, his arm hurts.

 

Caroline's questioning gaze is on the pair, as she holds out a box to Matt. 

 

The taller of the two males fishes out the disinfect, gently dabbing it along the perforated skin with cotton swabs. Tyler's face is tucked away into his neck. He refuses to look at either of them. Only making a small sobbing sound when Matt tightens the gauze around his arm, clipping it together with a safety pin. The pressure feels good, makes the flesh feel whole. He'll blame it on the blood loss if anyone were to question, but, yes, Tyler fucking Lockwood nuzzles into his best friend, all memory of this morning disregarded. 

 

Caroline who had rushed out of the room at some point is now clutching chocolate and a juice box. Her's is the first voice heard in a while. "Give him to these, I'll go clean up.." She doesn't wait for a reply, she's already looking for cleaning supplies.

 

Matt's still silent, as Tyler polishes off everything that's handed him. He's careful to avoid looking at the blonde, doesn't want to know what his eyes hold. He can only however avoid them for so long, because a slender finger is tilting his chin. Matt's eyes, Matt's beautiful eyes are so fucking caring that Tyler thinks he could melt. "Why, Ty? Huh? Did you even fucking think this through?" Matt, for the second time doesn't notice he's crying. "How could you.. How could you even fucking think of leaving me? Fucking hell, Tyler. You could have died!" Tyler flinches at the pain that's written across his friend's face. "I don't fucking know what I would have done if you did.. Don't. Don't you fucking dare do this again. You can't leave me. Fuck, Ty.." He's fucking chocking on his words now, crushing his lips to Tyler's in hot searing passion. 

 

The shorter boy fucking squeaks, but those lips against his.. They feel so good. And he's so damn out of it, that he climbs into Matt's lap, moaning softly. Mr. Tough-Jock-Guy is keening like crazy. What are the odds?

 

Matt's getting hard, (fuck, not the best timing) and he breaks away, resting his forehead against the others. He murmurs. "Don't ever leave me."

 

Tyler's laying against Matt, a somber expression present. "He hates me, Matt." God, was he ready to sleep now. And he does. With his head laying against the blonde's chest. The house goes silent afterwards. Caroline had snuck out at some point, in case Tyler's parents were to come home anytime soon, and boy, with her bloody clothes, that would be horrible. 

 

Matt doesn't sleep, not even through the night, he just holds the mumbling boy, dropping a kiss to the crown of his head every little while. He's afraid. That maybe if he closes his eyes, he'll a miss even a moment of this. Because he's so sure when the morning sun rises, everything will return to normal, and Tyler will go back to pretending this isn't real. And fuck, Matt can't bare that, not after nearly losing him.

 


End file.
